The Places We've Never Been
by tender.glassy.romance
Summary: Hermione nor Draco have ever been in love. When their parents get married... they begin to learn that love really should stay "all in the family".


**The Places We've Never Been **

_Hermione nor Draco have ever been in love. When their parents get married... they begin to learn that love really should stay all in the family. _

………………

**The Wedding (I)**

……………

I am not at all a happy little bloke. I am in fact the most pissed of little bugger that ever lived. My father's getting married today.

Enough said.

Well, perhaps it's really not enough said, or perhaps I'm just in the mood to express my "oh so deep" feelings. So, let's begin Dr. Freud…

I hate that little slut my father has decided to attach himself to. And, I'd love to kick my father in the face for not following his own advice.

"_Draco, I'm going to give you some very useful advice: love them and leave them,"_

My father gave me that lovely speech the night I had planned to formally ask Pansy to be my girlfriend. I thanked my lucky stars for that eye opening experience, and as vain as the speech was I have carried it with me. To think that I nearly tied myself to Pansy of all people! Don't feel sorry for Pansy: she's less into relationships than I am. The girl just wants to have fun, and who can blame her? She's young and rich and who in the world would want to give that up? Who could blame me for having the same sentiment?

I never thought my father would.

My father was the ultimate playboy, and his escapades would put a porn star to shame. How could he betray the secret trust? How could he forget his fear of commitment? What spell did that little witch put on him?

I blame that minx whole-heartedly for my father's fall into morality. He was fine before she strutted into his life, with her droopy stockings and messy lipstick. She's not even wickedly gorgeous, which my father said a wife should be.

_"If a man must take a wife, then let her be very young and too beautiful, so he'll have something to stare at while she complains,"_ My father was a wise man.

I suppose Mrs. Granger is pretty in a very ordinary way...she's not plain but she's no glamour star. And, she certainly does not compare to my mother! _Although… I never met the woman. _But, I have seen pictures and I know my mother was all too beautiful, which may be why she ran off with her fashion designer when I was born.

As far as child abandonment goes, I'd have to say that was surely the most glamorous run off that I've ever heard of. I'm almost proud of it, in a way… Considering.

So, why did my stupid father settle for such a normie? Who's to say? I certainly can't explain it, and I shudder when I try. The inner workings of my father's mind are no longer an area I want to ponder. I fear if I do, then I'll catch the disease my father has so obviously caught. And, I'm much too happy with my life as it is.

_"Love them and leave them," _There's a disease every man should catch.

…………………………………………………..

_My mother is happier than I've **ever** seen her. _

_Why? _

_She was never this happy with Dad. _

_Daddy was great. _

_He was wonderful. _

_He was so lively and real. _

_She never smiled like this for him. _

_She never smiled like this for me._

_That prick Lucius takes her to a few plays and professes undying love, and all of a sudden my Dad is old news. _

_No wonder I love books. They are more stable than real life will ever be._

My mother is laughing with her sisters, and my grandmother. They are all talking about the wedding night, as though I'd ever want to think about that! How disgusting can they be? I shake my head, and decide that if I will ever be civil to my new stepfather than I had better leave before this conversation gets any more in depth.

I sneak out of the busy room, and I know that am not missed. There are twenty women scrambling around in my mother's hotel room, and most of them are more enthusiastic than I. I walk down the hall, until I find a small space where I can be alone. I pull a tiny book out of the hidden pocket in my bridesmaid's dress, and begin to read. What else is there to do?

My mother is marrying a sniveling white haired freak, of which I will have to live with, and I will also have to associate with a new "brother". _Wonderful_. From what I hear, he's only a reincarnation of his father… a man I would like nothing more than to throw in a pot of boiling water. I'm sure I'll feel the same way about his horrible little brat.

"HERMIONE! Where in the devil are you?" I heard the screech of my harping grandmother, and quickly deposited my book into my hidden pocket, and run to meet her voice.

"I'm here grandmother," I called as I approached her.

"We are leaving now! No one has the time to wait on you, girl! Where is your head?" I wanted to huff in anger, but knew my grandmother would threaten to "box my ears". Honestly, that word wasn't used when she was a girl.

"Sorry Grandmother," I say through clenched teeth. Honestly!

My grandmother grabs my arm, and drags me along. "Come on now! We haven't time for empty apologizes! Your mother is making the best decision of her life! Too bad she couldn't have made it sooner!"

"What about dad?" I ask testily. I can feel my cheeks filling with red blood, as my face flushes in anger. How dare she imply something about my father!

"Your father was a silly dreamer, with one eye stuck in a book and another up in the clouds. Sadly, you've inherited that quality. But, I'm sure Lucius will fix that," She smiled happily when she said his horrid name, and at that point I want to pull her hair out. Instead, I wrench my arm from her bony grip, and push away from her.

"My father was not silly! He was full of life. A thing you obviously know nothing about. Furthermore, I'm proud to be his daughter!" My grandmother glares at me, and attempts to snatch my arm again, but I dodge her easily.

"If you ever say such things about my father again, I swear old woman that you will wish you hadn't. Don't. Tempt. Me," I punctuate every word, so there will be absolutely no confusion. How dare she talk about my dead father in such a way?

"You are a horrible little girl," She admonishes, as she continues down the hall. While I was raving, she had continued to walk, pretending to ignore me. She expected me to follow, despite my speech. I wish I had the strength to leave her where she is, and go off into some depressing coffee shop in London, but I'm much to proper to do such a thing. I was too tired and order- loving to disrupt any more than I already had. She dismissed my speech as though it were nothing, and as though it had no impact.

Perhaps it hadn't.

I suddenly felt deflated. Defeated. My burst of blind courage died as quickly as it grew. My cold grandmother's face had not changed from its stony position during my tirade, but I knew she was listening to me. I'd gotten myself in trouble for no reason at all. My anger had gotten me nowhere, except maybe likely less college money at Christmas.

It didn't seem half so worthy a cause now, and that was probably my grandmother's intent: to make me feel like an imbecile. She had and I did. But, part of me felt proud that I had stood up for my father's name, although I could have just as soon kept it to myself, for all the difference it made.

"Are you coming?" She shrieked. I sighed deeply, and pulled up the hem of my skirt and made an unladylike sprint towards the elevator my grandmother was holding.

I hoped this hotel played elevator music, because this was going to be a long ride down!

………………………

"And, I know pronounce you: HUSBAND AND WIFE! YOU MAY KISS THE BRIDE!"

That preacher's a bit too excited for my tastes. What's so great about getting married? Big freaking whoop! I'm not sure, but I think I saw a few divorce lawyers stick their numbers in my dad's pocket as he and his wife walked down the aisle.

It seems to me that the only reason people get married is to get divorced. What a waste.

I look over at my new "sister", and the hideous little creature looks as excited as I feel. She takes my arm, and we walk down the aisle in the fashion that the bride and groom had. Her arm's warm on my cold arm, but I try to ignore her completely. She is an annoying looking girl, but I'm in no mood to tease her. _Although… That mood will so obviously not last forever._

She is the type of girl whom I'd spot in a crowd, and immediately begin to tease. She's the bookish sort, who probably hasn't had a boyfriend a day in her life. _She is just the type of girl who is prone to tears. _It's something about hearing the sound of a pathetic loser's tears that brings me immense joy. I suppose I'm rather sadistic, or perhaps I'm using her has the vessel for my revenge, since her mother is untouchable: if her mother cannot be touched, then I shall simply have to use her daughteras a stand in.

Oh, I shall have fun with this one.

At least there is a slight upside to this marriage thing.

I get a new play thing.

**Play Thing (II)**

_At least there is a slight upside to this marriage thing. I get a new play thing._

When I was a child, my father bought me toys by the pounds. They were an attempt to replace my mother, who had decided that I was not worth keeping. I never much cared for the idea of a mother, anyhow.

Most of my toys never kept my attention for very long, and it was quite exciting for my nanny when I paid attention to a toy for longer than five minutes. Every minute I was occupied with a toy was a minute she did not have to pop stress pills; I was quite a handful. There is one thing my nanny could never say, that I did not, for at least a time, love all my toys very dearly. When my toys were of interest, I adored them deeply, but when the moment was over, my affection suddenly disappeared. But, it can never be said that there was not adoration at some point and time.

As I grew older, my toys quickly changed from plastic eyes and furry faces to silicon breasts and bottled blonde hair. But, either way they were toys nonetheless. I have never lost my childish need for toys, things I can own, then dispose of at my will._ The need to own something, and that need to control rule my life. _I am a slave to my own need for power. But, as far as masters go, I should think power is not nearly such a bad one. Better power be my end then a vixen with flaxen hair and a fake nose.

In my lifetime there has only been one toy that I have ever kept in my fancy; a small wooden dragon. It was the one gift that did not come from my father. I have never known where it came from, but I believe it was from my mother.

I remember when I was four years old; I was once again disobeying my nanny and staying up till all hours. I had snuck into my playroom, and was playing with everything in sight. I remember hearing voices rising, while I was doing this. My father's voice and the voice of an unfamiliar woman, the two were talking in hushed anger. The woman spoke my name once or twice, and I think she was requesting to see me. My father refused; he couldn't trust her. The woman demanded to see me, but my father was a stone wall. The woman made a compromise with my father. She had brought me a gift that she had made especially for me, and she wanted me to have something from her. He allowed her to deliver it to my playroom, but nothing more. She didn't deserve more.

I was afraid for the first time in my life, because I did not want my father to catch me up. I dashed to my room, and dove into my bed. I pulled the covers up over my face, and tried to remain completely still. I didn't want to be punished with no gifts the following day. It didn't take long for me to drop off to sleep, because I had been fighting off sleep for hours.

The next morning I raced to my playroom, to see what new toys my father had given me, the mystery woman quite forgotten. I saw many toys all around, but only one kept my attention. It was far apart from the other toys, and looked more real than any of the others. I knew it was the toy for me, because it was like nothing I'd ever wanted before. It was a strange toy, with old world charm that I found myself gravitating to. I will always love that abnormal wooden dragon, because it's nothing like the other toys. One could say that my adoration of toys as a child and my lust for women now is in someway connected; one might even say that I will most likely fall in love with an abnormal woman… like no one I've ever seen before.

_But…_

I highly doubt it's true.

…………………

"When I first met Jeanine, I knew she was the one for Lucius. My father always said a good woman needs to have good child bearing hips, a no nonsense attitude, and nice set of teeth. I don't know about her hips, but she does have nice teeth! TO THE BRIDE AND GROOM!"

"TO THE BRIDE AND GROOM!" The room shook from the strength of all the unified voices shouting at once. The laughter following Lucius' best man's speech was lost on me. I never heard anything funny, then I suppose I'm a bit biased. He could have jumped up on the table and started swinging his hips to a pop song, and I still wouldn't have laughed. Nothing was funny anymore.

In the back of my mind, I knew that I should have been enjoying the reception as much as possible. After the night was through, I'd have to leave my own home to go to his house. I'd have to leave _my_ home. Where my father taught me how to read. Death would have be more of a comfort.

I did not fancy the idea of living in a large estate, with cold hallways and pissed off servants. I would rather live in my house, where it's always warm and where I see my father in every inch of the house. Leaving my birth home is like abandoning my father. I can't leave him.

Mum says she won't sell the house, but she has decided to rent it out. As if that's any better, she might as well dance on my father's grave. That house _is_ my father. How can she lease my father to some stranger? When I think of someone else walking on the sacred ground where my father's soul lies, I want to scream. I've never seen such a display of disrespect.

It makes me ill.

"NOW THE BRIDE AND GROOM WILL HAVE THEIR FIRST DANCE!"

"Bloody fantastic," I heard an unfamiliar voice mumble. I sought out the speaker, and found that it was my stepbrother. His head was facing the ceiling, and his chair was standing only on its hind legs.

"You'll fall," I said, for lack of anything better to say. I needed something to distract me from watching that prat hold my mother. My stepbrother did not acknowledge that I had warned him, and continued to glare at the high ceiling. I shrugged my shoulders, and turned my attention to my uneaten plate of food.

"A little know it all? I suppose that comes with the territory," Stepbrother suddenly said. I could only guess he was addressing me, and I did not like the implication at all.

"Comes with what territory?" I asked, already on edge.

Stepbrother turned a lazy eye to me, and smirked. "You are obviously a bookworm, so it is almost natural for you to be a little know it all, as well," _How dare he? Why that ignorant little git!_

"You've got a lot of nerve making assumptions about me! How dare you?" I jumped up, as my cheeks began to redden. I temporarily forgot where I was, but lucky for me the guests were all making their way to the dance floor, completely oblivious.

"I do dare," He said with a smirk. He laughed cheerily, as he began to rock the chair. He was going to fall. **Good.**

When I only narrowed my eyes in response, he feigned concern. "Oh come now, you can't really be vexed with me? Why that's not the way a little sister is supposed to be! You are supposed to adore me, and laugh when I make jokes. Cheer up little bookworm!" He began to laugh passionately, no longer having control over the chair. Before he knew it, the chair turned backwards, and he was not able to stop it. I nearly let him crash to the ground, but my conscience wouldn't let me. I quickly grabbed his arm, while letting the chair fall to the ground. I only smiled sweetly in his bewildered and furious face.

"Yes, I suppose you are a bit of clown aren't you?" I said with a giggle, before letting go of his arm, and letting him fall on the tiled floor. I stood over him, with a raised eyebrow, before walking away.

I looked around the room, and noticed that no one had seen Step brother's ungraceful fall. Between the blasting music and the excitement of the dances, no one had bothered to watch the head table.

I knew I had made an enemy in my stepbrother, but he did not concern me. If he stayed as far from me as possible, then I'm sure we'd get on just fine. I only hoped, I could make that same arrangement with Mum and Lucius.

Yep, one big happy family.

…….

……

I took a line from the Bachelor.

**TBC**

I warn this was non beta'd, but I didn't feel like hassling my beta girls just yet...


End file.
